


Recovery Takes Time (And A Really Cute Boyfriend)

by TheDoctorIsIcecube



Series: Living in this World [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bad Templars (Dragon Age), M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Templars, Therapy, There is still magic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-20
Updated: 2017-02-26
Packaged: 2018-09-25 22:22:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9849005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDoctorIsIcecube/pseuds/TheDoctorIsIcecube
Summary: Cullen thought that nothing would ever get better after what happened to him in Kirkwall, but he knows that moving to a new place is his best chance at starting over and being happy again.Arelos is sick of Templars abusing their power and he bears the scars of their corruption. He has always sworn that he can never trust non-mage humans again, but the awkwardness of his new neighbour is somewhat endearing.





	1. A Day From Bad to Worse

**Author's Note:**

> General notes: this fic will contain, at some point, references to rape, torture, hospitalisation, addiction, and attempted suicide. There will be possibly detailed descriptions of anxiety and PTSD, but I'm hoping it won't be too graphic.
> 
> This fic is listed as the second in a series. The first is a prequel of sorts, started after this one, and you do not need to read it to understand what's going on here. There will also be a companion fic to this one, which focuses on Anders.

Arelos found himself, for once, not too irritated after his therapy session. Even if his therapist was nice, the things that he had to talk about were not. Today, though, he wasn’t feeling too bad. Admittedly he wasn’t sure why, but he was grateful for the feeling nonetheless. The session had been the same as usual, the same as it was every fortnight. Maybe it helped, maybe it didn’t. He had no idea.

He rounded the corner quickly after pulling on his scarf, not looking where he was going as he pulled his phone out of his pocket. He walked straight into someone, his nose bashing directly into their arm. “Oh, I’m sorry!” He said. “I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

The person stumbled back, rubbing his arm, and mumbled an apology of his own. Arelos wanted to say that he didn’t need to apologise, but it was a little too late for that now. He stepped to the side, and moved past the man. And then it all went to shit and he saw it in the man’s eyes the moment he realised. He could see the moment of realisation, and then fear, which went full on into panic before he could even blink.

Arelos backed away hastily, really not wanting to cause a problem in the middle of what had been quite a good day. Whoever this man was and whatever his problem was with magic or elves or whatever it was, it wasn’t an issue that he needed to hang around to watch the end of.

He pushed out of the waiting room and out onto the street without a moment of hesitation. He probably should have been kinder, said sorry again, maybe affirmed that he wouldn’t harm the man. But at the same time, he really didn’t feel like having abuse thrown at him, which was incredibly likely considering. It was better this way. Back away, pray that he never saw the man again. It would be easy. He’d had incidents like this before. Lots of people were afraid of magic for whatever reason- some were just bigoted, of course, but some had good reason to be scared. Arelos couldn’t find it in him to blame them all, especially not scared men waiting to see a therapist.

He went back home, his mood now completely ruined. He wished people weren’t like that and he wished it didn’t hurt him so much. He still believed that he should be respected just as much as people with no magic, but it was hard to ever see it as a realistic goal, especially when things like that happened and he couldn’t summon any anger at the state of affairs. Arelos slumped down onto his battered sofa, bringing out his phone and staring absently at the lock screen with a sigh. This sort of shitty mood swing was why he’d wanted to go and see a therapist in the first damn place.

‘Out of the grasp of the humans yet?’ He managed a faint smile when he saw the text. Trust Dorian to send him something like that even when he was human. ‘How was it? Are you up for doing stuff tonight?’

‘Define stuff,’ he wrote and sent back. Knowing Dorian, he would have some smart remark to make before he actually explained exactly what he wanted Arelos’ company for. He was always like that. 

‘A night of passion followed by my inevitable walk of shame ;(‘ Arelos grinned at the text. Of course, that was absolutely just like Dorian. He shouldn’t have expected anything else. He waited a few moments before the actual response came. ‘I’m meeting a contact and she refused to allow me to come alone.’

‘Fine, I’ll come with you. Where do you want me to meet you?’ This wasn’t the first time he’d been asked to accompany Dorian like this- when dealing with shady individuals in possession of forbidden magical items, it was best not to go alone. 

‘I’ll just come to your flat,’ he said. ‘It’s on my way. I’m meeting her in the tavern at the entrance to the alienage.’ A shifty place for a shifty deal. Probably a deal with an elven mage, they were always willing to supply things to Dorian and himself. Maybe dealing in contraband and running a part of the lyrium black market in the city from his flat wasn’t the safest thing to do, but it was safer outside of the alienage with their twice weekly Templar raids.

‘Give me enough time to make some food, then you can come over.’ Arelos rolled off of his sofa, wandering over to his flat’s very small kitchen and wondering what could be made with the limited supply of food in his fridge. Probably not a lot. He had pasta that was leftover from two days ago but no sauce to go with it. Did he have any chopped tomatoes? He checked the cupboard, frowning at how empty it was. He needed to get some more food in so hopefully he could get some money tonight, but for now the pasta and tomato soup would do. Hardly a classy meal, but he’d grown up in the slums. He’d had worse.

The finished product didn’t taste too bad, and he’d almost eaten it all when there was a sharp knock at the door. He really did need to get his doorbell fixed. “Just come in, Dorian, I know you can unlock it!” He called. Normally, Dorian just unlocked the door and came in when he pleased.

The knock came again, and then his phone lit up. ‘Don’t answer the door,’ the text read. Arelos froze, making his way on silent feet into the front room and peering through the window to look at who was outside. Not Dorian, or anyone else he knew. Instead, there was a woman in the Templar uniform looking decidedly angry. She knocked again, so forcefully that the door shook on its hinges. 

Trying to control the wave of fear that came over him, Arelos grabbed the staff that stood propped up against the coat hanger and started to fortify the door. He had a few wards in there, but nothing that could just detect Templars, just an alarm and a couple to try and prevent lock picking. If he put anything more on there he’d just hurt anyone who knocked on the door, including his neighbours, and then there was no doubt that he’d be reported for magic.

Wards in place, the best thing for him to do now was to sit tight and wait until the Templar went away. And perhaps also text Dorian. He pulled out his phone, frowning up at the front door after every word as he typed. ‘What’s going on? What have you done now?’

‘I left my passport in my bag and I put my bag away so it wasn’t on me if I got stopped by Templars.’ Arelos almost laughed, but he was just slightly too terrified of the Templar right outside his door. ‘The problem: I was stopped by a Templar and they asked me where I was going before asking for my documents.’

‘That’s almost funny. I would laugh if I wasn’t so scared of the Templar woman currently outside my front door. How long do you think I’ve got before she gives up?’ Arelos instinctively reached for his staff when another knock sounded, relaxing again when he realised that nothing more was happening. Then, a thought occurred to him. ‘Do they have you in custody or are you free?’ 

‘They have me in custody until I can produce my documents. I said they were at yours, but they’re in the safe hold I have at the bar.’ This was a mess, it seemed. He couldn’t get out until the Templar left (and even when she did leave, his neighbours would hate him for this) but he needed to get out to let Dorian go free.

‘I could climb out of my back window and produce some sort of barrier in mid air so I don’t die,” Arelos suggested. Honestly, he was only half joking. The Maker only knew how long that Templar would be at his door for. They were irritatingly persistent people.

‘Please don’t do that for me yet,’ Dorian sent back. ‘I can survive in custody, I’m just in a dreadfully boring room and they haven’t interrogated me yet.’ Arelos didn’t want to think about what would happen if they did start their questioning. He needed to get there quickly.

‘You’ve got ten minutes before I jump out to get those documents and get you out,’ Arelos promised. This day had gone from good to bad to downright hellish. It was never a good time when the Templars came knocking. He was going to have to be careful. He walked over to his back window and glanced out. These apartments had no balconies for potted plants, not like the nice ones three blocks away. He was four floors off the ground and it didn’t look good for getting down without getting hurt if he just jumped. And if there was more than one Templar, what would he do when he hit the ground? They’d know he was running and then they’d break into his house and find out what he had hidden there.

Five minutes passed, and another knock came, this time accompanied by a loud shout along the lines of ‘if you don’t open the door now, you’re dead’. Arelos tried not to take it personally. For all this Templar woman knew, he could be out somewhere and she was shouting uselessly at an empty flat.

‘They’re shouting at me,’ he told Dorian. ‘I’m getting out before they break their way in and I have to fight them, because I am not going into custody with them ever again.’ He looked out of the window, then back towards the door. Going splat on the pavement was miles better than facing any Templar. He grabbed his staff and opened the window, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath before he stepped out. He tried not to look down as he cast the spell.

There were about two seconds where nothing happened, and then, to his great relief, he felt magic pulse in the air and his descent slowed dramatically, bringing him to a stop about an inch above the ground and then dropping him safely. Thank the Maker for that. Not dying was really the best outcome he could have asked for.

‘Do not do this.’ Arelos laughed at the text as he read it.

‘Too late,’ he sent back. ‘I imagine I’ll be with you in about forty five minutes. Make sure they don’t start questioning you before then.’

‘You’re a reckless fool and I hate you.’ Arelos rolled his eyes at that text. That was Dorian, as overdramatic and thankless as ever. He picked himself up off the ground and strode off towards the local bar, his goal clearly in mind. A moment later, his phone buzzed again- another text. ‘I grudgingly thank you, despite your idiocy…’

He laughed, quickly tapping out a response. ‘I should damn well hope so.’ He didn’t receive a response to that one, and he hoped Dorian was okay. He was worried, possibly irrationally so (his therapist always told him that what happened to him was done by a small group of people and was objected to by many; he didn’t believe her), that Dorian would get hurt by these people. He was worried that if he came into the reach of the Templars, they’d hurt him again.

At the tavern, it was an easy enough job to locate Dorian’s bag, and he rifled through it for the papers he needed and then got out, breaking into a jog as he headed towards where the Templars would no doubt be holding Dorian. The same place they’d held Arelos in custody several times. The same place...he shouldn’t think about it. He couldn’t think about it if he wanted to get through this. But what if one of those Templars was on the desk, or if one was with Dorian right now? He knew they hadn’t lost their jobs, even though he was assured that something would be done when he reported it.

‘I’m coming now,’ he told Dorian, hoping that he was still okay. ‘I won’t be long, please don’t antagonise them. I’m telling them that I left my house to give you the papers in case you needed them and when I was halfway across the city you texted me to tell me what had happened.’

‘Hurry up,’ was the only text he received back. Worryingly short, considering that it was Dorian that he was texting. Arelos broke into a run, and within five minutes he was at the Templar’s base of operations in the city. Now for the hard part. He would rather jump out of ten more windows than face the Templars.

“Excuse me,” he said, walking up to the reception desk. Times like this were the only times he ever attempted to hide his accent. Templars were never afraid to judge him as a poverty-stricken thief. “I have been told by a friend that he has been detained here because he didn’t have his passport on him when he was stopped earlier.”

The receptionist glared at him for a long, awkward moment, and then sighed and looked down at his computer. “Would that friend’s name be Dorian Pavus?” Arelos nodded, hoping that he wouldn’t have to answer too many questions from anyone scarier than a receptionist. “If you’ve got his documents, go down the end of the hallway and talk to the woman in front of the detention cells.”

That would be a scarier woman, he knew. She would not allow him to go through so quickly, and time was needed here. He needed to save Dorian before something terrible happened. He wanted to run away at the thought of going anywhere near those cells again, but he thanked the woman at the desk and took a deep breath before advancing down the hallway.

He was being glared at before he even reached the woman, but logic told him that he had done nothing wrong, at least not for about twenty four hours. He would be fine. “I have Dorian Pavus’ papers with me,” he said confidently, even managing a smile. “He’s been detained because he wasn’t able to produce documents, so he asked me to bring them.”

“The papers were meant to be at your residence, but you were not there,” she said. “We had someone call on you.”

“I wasn’t in,” he said, trying to keep his voice pleasant but realising too late that his accent had slipped through. He was not the criminal here. They wouldn’t do anything to him just because he was elven. They couldn’t (they could, but he hoped they wouldn’t). “I saw that Dorian had left his passport at home. He’s a bit forgetful like that, he always forgets he isn’t in Tevinter.”

“Hmm.” The woman looked extremely doubtful, but she snatched the papers from his hand and scanned through them, her frown deepening. “These look genuine. Take a seat in the waiting room, we’ll see if your friend is eligible for release.”

“It’s a passport, ma’am,” he said. He didn’t want to wait. He didn’t want Dorian to wait, not with that last text he sent. He was afraid for him. “Dorian did nothing wrong. Th-these documents prove that he is not a citizen of Ferelden and you cannot detain him as if he is.”

“Take a seat in the waiting room,” the woman said through clenched teeth. “Or I’ll find a reason to throw you in the cells too, elf. Go on. Go. If your friend has done nothing wrong, he’ll be out in a few minutes.” 

He didn’t want to back down, he didn’t want Dorian to be alone with those people for any longer. But he was so afraid of this woman, so afraid of being locked away again, he couldn’t say another word to her. He already felt like he was going to cry. He tried not to lose his shit too much and he just turned away, walking back to wait. ‘I’m here and they have the papers,’ he told Dorian, hoping he could still reply. ‘They say you’ll be out in a few minutes but I can’t do any more.’

The little mark next to the message changed to ‘read’, but no reply came. Clearly Dorian was busy, then. Busy, and hopefully soon to be a free man again. This whole Templar business was thoroughly ruining what had promised to be a decent evening.

 

Arelos waited a few minutes. After three, he started to get very anxious. Why wasn’t Dorian coming? Was he okay? Were they releasing him? Had they found a reason to keep him? Were they going to arrest him too? Another minute went by, then another and another and he couldn’t stop his hands from shaking. Just being in this place was bringing back far too many bad memories. They’d better release Dorian soon, or something was going to get accidentally set on fire. And that would not end up well for anyone. 

He took a deep breath, closing his eyes and trying not to think about whether Dorian was being tortured or not. He breathed in and out and tried to get a handle on his magic. He had good control, he wouldn’t be allowed to live in the regular city if he didn’t have control better than any human standards, but not good enough if he really started to panic.

Barely a minute later, there was the sound of a metal door creaking open, and then loud footsteps and a familiar voice complaining about the ‘dismal accommodations’ they had here. Arelos looked up, flashing Dorian a relieved smile. Thank the Maker. 

“Dorian!” He called, rushing towards him. He didn’t care if he wasn’t meant to run inside this building. He had been so worried. He hadn’t seen Dorian in over a week and if this had happened only now that they were about to see each other...he wouldn’t have been able to hold it together for much longer. He knew it.

“You took your time,” Dorian teased. “I was in there for a whole hour…honestly, this place is so uncivilised.” Even as he spoke, his eyes were searching Arelos’ face, clearly worried for him. “Let’s get out of here. I think we should cancel our evening plans, don’t you?”

“I think so,” he said, glancing back at several Templars who were glaring at them. “I think there’s a distinct possibility they’d ruin them if we followed through.”


	2. Surprise New Flatmate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arelos gets a surprise at the therapist and then a surprise when he gets home.

Two weeks after that disastrous confrontation with the Templars, and Dorian still hadn’t left Ferelden. He said he was trying to stay low for a while, but Arelos could tell it wasn’t about that. It was about something else that Dorian wouldn’t talk about.

He didn’t really mind, of course. He liked Dorian, even if he snored loudly when he slept on the sofa and complained about his bad back all the time. He had a large reserve of items that he’d brought with him from Tevinter this time, enough that Arelos could justify putting a little in his usually forgotten bank account for a time when it was too dangerous to sell anything. And it was nice to be able to do dealings with the merchants who only spoke Tevene, because his own knowledge of the language was limited.

He was a little unwilling to leave Dorian alone in his flat whilst he went to therapy, but he could hardly hire a babysitter for a grown man. Arelos made him promise not to touch anything and then headed out, making his way to his therapist’s office. With any luck, the man from last time wouldn’t be there. If he was, Arelos told himself that he would just leave. He didn’t want to upset the guy again. Someone who panicked that much at the sight of a mage deserved the help more than him.

Fortunately, the man wasn’t there when he arrived. He waited for ten minutes before his appointment was set to start. He hated waiting for these, because generally elves didn’t trust humans with their well being, which meant that everyone here was human and he rather often received stares. It was what you got for standing out from the crowd. Arelos tended to keep his hood up in this place, to hide his ears. The tips were still visible through the fabric if you looked closely enough, though. 

His therapy session was another one of the good ones- he left feeling considerably better again, and he got to talk about his run in with the Templars (minus the illegal parts), although this time the feeling was tinged by slight worry as to what he would find in the waiting room when he left. He opted to stay far away from the corner this time, imagining that if the man was in the room, he would be there again.

He was right. As he turned the corner, he saw the very tall blond man again. His hair was cleaner this time. “Excuse me,” he said quietly as Arelos turned the corner. He didn’t sound as worried this time. The man nodded towards the door, and he nodded back. Talking in a silent room was incredibly awkward.

He followed the man outside, very aware that he didn’t want to get out of the eyeshot of the receptionist. He did not want this man attacking him for what he had done two weeks ago. It had happened before. “I want to say sorry for making a scene two weeks ago,” he said. Now that was a surprise. “I was nervous.”

“Oh. I, ah…it’s alright. At least you didn’t start hurling insults at me. And you didn’t try to hit me.” Arelos laughed a little awkwardly, glancing back inside at the receptionist. He could tell she was watching the two of them, keeping an eye out for trouble. “As far as freak outs go, yours was fairly minor. I’m...I’m sorry for making you panic. It was hardly my intention.”

“It’s okay,” he said. “It’s all over now and I just wanted you to know that there’s no bad blood between us.” Arelos almost cringed at the hopefully unintentional possible reference to blood magic.

“That’s good,” he said with what he hoped passed for a non-threatening smile. “Anyway, I have to go, a friend is expecting me. I hope it goes okay,” he said, indicating the building behind them before waving and walking off before the man could say any more. If he did, it would probably get awkward.

He glanced back over his shoulder once, when he was a good twenty metres away, just in time to see the man turn and head back inside the centre. He wasn’t being followed or anything, then. Thank the Maker. 

It was a little surprising, to be apologised to by a human, but Arelos wasn’t going to complain. If only more people could have that sort of common decency, maybe he wouldn’t be stuck with the shit he had. It was probably even more surprising that he’d managed to get through a whole conversation with a human without wanting to run away. Maybe that was what seeing someone panic before you ever spoke to them did, because the man wasn’t nearly so scary when he knew he was afraid of mages (it could have been elves, of course, but he imagined it was the mages). 

His thoughts had him distracted the whole way home, and he barely realised where he was until he was standing outside of his own front door. He fumbled for his key, glancing over to the other flat on this floor, just across the hallway. The door was slightly open and he could see that it was empty- clearly the previous occupants had left. Good riddance, honestly, they had been awfully loud, and they always left passive aggressive notes on the noticeboard about his magic stuff. Good job that they were drug dealers, or they would have called the Templars on him.

Giving up on finding his key, he unlocked the door with his magic and walked in to find Dorian sitting on the sofa only wearing underwear. He sighed, closed his eyes, and walked backwards out of the flat again. Sometimes Dorian just got a little too familiar with living in his flat.

“Sorry,” came the utterly unashamed and unrepentant call from inside of the flat. Arelos just grumbled under his breath in response, giving Dorian two minutes before he pushed the door open again. Thankfully, his friend was now wearing a shirt and was just finishing pulling n a pair of jeans. “You know, most people wouldn’t complain upon walking into their flat and finding an attractive man in only his underwear…”

“I will complain every single time I walk into my flat and see you in your underwear. I don’t think I’d have an issue if it were anyone else.” He’d have more of an issue if it was anyone else, and Dorian knew that after the last time he’d cashed in a favour from a friend by sending him to the flat wearing very little.

“Are you implying that I’m not attractive? If you weren’t such a dear friend to me, I’d be wounded. As it is, I know you’re going to pay me back for that comment at some later time, I’m sure.” Dorian grinned in the sort of way he had that Arelos knew meant that he know expected a favour in return for this grievous insult. Why did he have to make friends with such dramatic people? Probably because Tevinter people were the only reliable source of illicit magical items, and Dorian was a good man under all the dramatics, anyway. “So…how was your therapy? Not too traumatic?” 

“The sh-human apologised to me,” he said, not quite believing it still. The man had apologised without being asked to. He did it of his own freedom and even moved out of an enclosed space with a mage and held a conversation with a mage.

“Really?” That got Dorian’s full attention- he leaned forwards, resting his chin on one hand. “Interesting. He must like you…was he good looking? Perhaps he wants to see you again.”

“Dorian, all he did was apologise. That’s not how romances usually start. Besides, it doesn’t matter if he’s attractive, he’s human, and terrified of mages. That would never work out.”

“Are you still rejecting humans on principal?” Dorian asked, sticking his bottom lip out in a sorry excuse for a pout. “Spoilsport.”

He laughed. They’d sorted out a long time ago that they weren’t attracted to each other in that way, though Dorian said that if they ever got married his parents would probably drop dead on the spot. Fortunately for Dorian’s parents, they weren’t that bad so he had no wish to give them that kind of shock. “Non magical humans,” he clarified. “Or they’d think I was shy but really I’m just terrified of them.”

“So the attractive blond who’s scared of you is definitely out of the question, then.” Dorian stood up, wandering over to the window. “Think he’d be interested in me, instead? This area is so lacking in people willing to sleep with me, it’s sad.” 

“You’re also a mage,” he reminded him. He could never understand Dorian’s obsession with sex, really it was shameful. “And I never once said he was attractive. I wasn’t looking at him properly so I don’t even know.”

“You weren’t looking? Honestly, at this point I’m not even surprised. You should come out drinking with me tonight, we’ll see if you actually find anyone who you consider to be attractive. Or is the concept just not wired into that elven brain of yours?” Dorian was just teasing, Arelos knew that, but he still didn’t particularly appreciate the jab at his elvish heritage. He was pretty much just like a human, except his culture wasn’t built on hurting others for profit, so comments about his brain structure were just a little uncalled for.

“I will come out drinking with you the day I’m given a binding promise by the government that they will end the poverty of my people,” he said with a bright smile and a tone that was airier than the way he felt. He didn’t have the money to go out drinking and he wished Dorian wouldn’t flaunt his own while sleeping on his sofa.  
“Had to go and make things political, didn’t you?” Dorian rolled his eyes, not exactly looking angry about it. He knew perfectly well how much elves suffered. “I suppose I’d better get to work on becoming a politician and changing the laws, then.”

“A Fereldan politician or a Tevene politician?” He asked. Dorian’s position in Tevinter politics was, of course, already defined by the position of his father and grandfather and everyone else who headed his house before his father. Elitist bastards.

“I’ll leave Fereldan politics to you,” Dorian said with a chuckle, fully aware that people who had been prosecuted with a crime couldn’t run for any important posts in government. The best he could do was help in pressure groups and be a member of the Elven Liberation Party, and he already did that.

“I’m sure I’ll go straight to the top. They just love elves with criminal records who were raised in poverty.” The sarcasm dripped off of every word, enough to make Dorian wince. 

“Alright, alright, point taken. It’s a shame, really…you have a lot of strong opinions. You’d do well in politics. Although not Tevinter politics, seeing as the magisterium is allergic to change.” 

“I do my best,” he said, moving over to the kitchen. He’d bought some food when out with Dorian yesterday, which meant that he actually had a choice between bread, rice, and pasta today, though the toppings still only included chopped tomatoes, a type of soup, or a combination of that and mixed herbs.

Dorian followed him to the kitchen, looking at the small array of food in his cupboards with mild distaste. “Seeing the lack of decent food in your house almost makes me wish I was back in Tevinter. Almost.” He sighed. “Shall we resign ourselves to another day of tomato soup?” 

“You could buy your own food,” he said with a small smile. He wished Dorian would contribute at least a little when he ate his rather valuable food, but he was happy to let the money go to the food bank in the slums.

“Shh. I have better things to spend the money on and you know it.” Arelos nudged his friend in the ribs at that, and was just about to reach for something in the cupboard when there was a ‘thud’ outside in the hallway and the sound of some muffled swearing. Not another Templar, they were far too professional to be clumsy. Someone else, then. “Should we go and see what that was about?”

“Suit yourself, I’m staying over here with a staff and glaring suspiciously out of the window,” he said. He didn’t like it when they got new neighbours because they always took a while to adjust to the fact that he was a mage and an elf and he was living outside of the alienage. They also never understood that his business should be kept quiet.

“Fine.” Dorian wandered over to the front door and pushed it open, peering out into the hallway and then sticking his head back inside. “Hot guy with about ten massive boxes scattered all over the floor. He doesn’t exactly look threatening, you’re probably safe to come and help him.”

Arelos stepped outside only to stop dead in the hallway. It was the man from therapy, just this time he wasn’t wearing the big coat he’d been wearing earlier. “Dorian, that’s the man I bumped into two weeks ago and then spoke to today.”

“What?” Dorian looked outside again, letting out a low whistle. “He is attractive. Wow. Come on, let’s go and help him.” And before Arelos could protest, he found himself being pushed outside, almost stumbling right into the man. “Hello! Welcome to the block, I believe you’ve met my friend before? I’m Dorian.” Dorian’s introduction was full of the charm Arelos had come to expect of him, and he couldn’t help but smile as the man jumped and looked up at them, seeming surprised.

“Oh, ah, hello again,” he said with a smile. His hands shifted and he almost dropped the box he was carrying. “I’m sorry if my racket interrupted something.”

“It didn’t,” Arelos said quickly, before Dorian could jump in with an innuendo of some kind. “Do you need some help?” He motioned to the boxes strewn around the floor. The man looked a little hesitant, and then he nodded. Arelos went to go pick up a box, grunting a little at how heavy it was. He was not one for strength, he never had been. “I’m Arelos,” he said. “Dorian stays with me on and off, so he won’t be around to be annoying all the time.”

The man laughed. “I can’t, I- I don’t think I can make a judgement yet. My name’s Cullen, I moved here from the other side of the city because my apartment changed the rules on animals.”

Arelos grinned. Another person in the flat with a pet was good, regardless of what the person was like. “Where are they?” He asked. “What kind of pet do you have?” The only way he’d ever connected with the people four doors down was because they had two dogs. He never talked to the actual people because they scared him shitless, but he looked in on the dogs occasionally. 

“I, ah, I have a dog. She’s called Sammy. She’s staying with a friend today, but I’m bringing her up here tomorrow when I’ve unpacked.” Cullen picked up a box of his own, shouldering open the door to his new apartment. “If you wouldn’t mind, could you just put everything down by the kitchen?”

Arelos went to do as he’d been asked, glancing back to see Dorian in the process of trying to lift several boxes at once with magic. He shook his head firmly, knowing that Cullen would react badly to seeing that, and Dorian rolled his eyes and bent to pick up a box of his own. 

“How long have you lived here?” Cullen asked. Arelos immediately jumped to the conclusion that he was trying to gauge if he’d grown up in the alienage, but he reminded himself not to be too harsh too quickly. That was why his old neighbours had hated him. “Is it a nice place to live?”

“I started renting this place just after I left university, so I’ve lived here about four years now. It’s mostly a constant group of people, so you shouldn’t need to worry about new people all the time.” Him running a magic item black market out of his flat would probably bother Cullen a lot...he hoped he wouldn’t scare him away.

“Alright. Thank you for the information…” Cullen glanced over at Dorian, lowering his voice a little bit. “Your friend- I assume he’s a friend, unless you’re...you know. Together. Anyway…he’s a mage too, I gather? From Tevinter? Seems an unlikely pairing, you and him…do you mind me asking how you met?”

“How do you know that?” He asked, glancing over at Dorian. He hadn’t been aware that Dorian had practised his ‘evil magister laugh’ in the presence of Cullen yet. It did happen occasionally, and it freaked the neighbours out a lot.

“I’ve never seen anyone who looks like that who wasn’t Tevene. I’ve had training in identifying- um, never mind.” Cullen coughed loudly, hurrying back outside to fetch another box. Arelos trailed after him, frowning slightly. There was more to Cullen than met the eye, it seemed. But he wasn’t going to pry. They’d only just met.

“He came here for a postgraduate degree in something or other,” he said. It was in something to do with magical theory and ancient history, he could never remember exactly what. “We were, um, in a society together.” The mage society, to be specific, which was something Dorian went to as a joke, not expecting it to be quite so political.

“University friends, then. I’m surprised you attended university, being an-” He stopped himself suddenly, bending to pick up a box to hide what was clearly a blush. “I’m not going to finish that sentence. I’m sorry. Forget I said anything, please…”

“Oh, don’t worry about it,” he said through gritted teeth. Everyone was surprised. “I have a first class bachelor’s degree in Elven History from the University of Denerim and I’ve been paying off the loan ever since.” It hadn’t really been that smart of a choice for his future and it had been damn difficult to get in, but that was a rant on inequality for another day. “To be fair to your assumption, I was one of twenty three elves in the whole university of several thousand.”

“Ah. Um, congratulations on the degree.” Cullen was still blushing as he rushed off with another box, leaving Arelos to trail along behind him with another heavy box. He had no idea what was in these things, but it felt like rocks. Lots of rocks.

“What did you say to him? He’s blushing like a schoolgirl…” Dorian caught up to him with his own box, the last of the pile that had been scattered in the hallway. “Did you ask him out?”

Arelos laughed, but his heart really wasn’t in it. He felt like he’d just scared Cullen off or offended him or even just been a bit rude. “He asked me how I met you, I said at university and then he accidentally showed his prejudice and I think I put him in his place a little too harshly.”

“Ah, he’ll get over it.” Dorian shrugged, then winced. “The sooner I get to put this box down, the better…” He strode off ahead into Cullen’s new flat, dumping his box unceremoniously down by the others. “There. All done. I think I deserve a reward for not giving in and carrying them all with magic.” 

After a few minutes, Cullen came back up the stairs, pulling two suitcases behind him. “Um, thank you for all your help,” he said. “I need to get to unpacking and all of that now, but I’ll stop by when Sammy gets here if you want to meet her.”

“I’d love to,” Arelos said with a smile. Maybe, then, all was forgiven, and he could start again with trying to be friends with Cullen.

“I’ll make sure to be conspicuously absent from the flat when you bring the animal around…” Dorian wrinkled his nose in disgust. Cullen looked mildly offended. 

“He’s allergic,” Arelos explained. “But he pretends he just doesn’t like dogs so that he doesn’t have to admit to his flaw.” 

“You’re missing out,” Cullen said with a smile. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then, Arelos, and I’ll see you around, Dorian.” Without a further word, he closed the door, leaving the pair of them standing in the hall.

“A charming man,” Dorian said with a grin. “I’m calling dibs.”


	3. Dog

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen brings Sammy to meet Arelos and asks for a favour.

The next afternoon, a couple of hours after Arelos got in from all his business, there was a knock on the door. Looking through the window as always, he saw that Cullen was standing there, his hair ruffled. He looked a tiny bit out of breath. “The dog’s here, Dorian, you might want to go away for a bit,” he called.

“Ugh… Arelos, come and get me when the damn thing’s gone.” Dorian hastily made his way to the back of the flat, leaving Arelos to go and see to Cullen. He opened the door with a smile, and was immediately jumped on by a large and quite excited grey dog. 

“Hello!” He said with a smile, stretching his hand out so she could have her way with it. He looked up to see Cullen looking very amused. He bristled a little internally because his thought was probably ‘aww, that’s cute’, which he hated, but he brushed the feeling off. “Good afternoon,” he said as an afterthought. “This is Sammy, right?”

“It is. She’s like this with everyone new, I’m sorry…she’ll calm down in a minute or two. Just keep Dorian away from her if she’s allergic.” Cullen tugged her lead a little, keeping her out of the flat for now. “Would you mind looking after her for a little while? I didn’t ever finish unpacking yesterday…I know it’s a big favour to ask…” 

“No, of course, I’d love to!” He said. And he would. He loved her already and he really missed having a dog, but he couldn’t afford it and there were plenty he could look after in the flat. He usually did some dog sitting when people who couldn’t afford kennels went away, too. “Is she okay with other dogs? Because I could take her to the park if that’s okay.”

“She’s fine around other dogs. Ah, where’s the park you’re planning on taking her to? I could really use some knowledge of this area if I’m going to be walking her every day.” Cullen bent down to scratch Sammy behind the ears, and she responded by almost knocking him backwards, to Arelos’ amusement. 

“It’s about a fifteen minute walk from here,” he said with a smile. It was more like twenty, but it didn’t feel like that with a dog. “It’s not the closest, but most people from here walk their dogs over there because there isn’t so much litter left around.” He decided not to mention that it was the park closest to the alienage, because Cullen didn’t need to know that. It was a much nicer park and it was better looked after.

“I see. Be careful with Sammy, won’t you? She’s been a good friend to me.” Arelos could tell that Cullen had a few reservations about letting an almost-stranger take his dog for a walk, but he supposed that was to be expected. A deep-seated fear of magic didn’t fade after a couple of pleasant conversations, and he had yet to meet a human who fully trusted elves. 

“I can stay here if you’d prefer,” he said with a smile. “I can send Dorian to go on a walk by himself to buy some tissues for when he’s sneezing later.”

Cullen laughed. “I’d prefer that, if you don’t mind,” he said. “She’s important to me and fifteen minutes is quite a walk along the road with a big dog you’ve never walked before.”

“It’s alright.” Arelos extended a hand to tale Sammy’s leash, and Cullen hesitated for just a moment before handing it over. As understandable as the fear of magic was, Arelos did still rather hope that he got over it soon. Distrust did nothing for his self-esteem. “Can I let her off, or will she eat my flat?”

Cullen smiled, bending down to stroke her. “She’ll eat any easily accessible food items, so I’d close the kitchen door if I were you. She won’t eat your sofa, but she might try to sit on it.” He continued to stroke her for a long interval, and Arelos got the distinct impression that he didn’t want to say goodbye just yet.

“You can come in and make sure I’m not hiding any dangerous magical objects she could swallow.” He was only half-joking when he said that. Truthfully, there were dangerous magical objects in his flat- they were not, however, put anywhere that a dog could sniff them out. He hoped. The Templar sniffer dogs weren’t meant to be able to, anyway.

“I think I’ll do that,” Cullen said, stepping inside before closing the door behind him. Dorian poked his head around the curtain that separated the ‘bedroom’ from the area with the sofa and the TV before glaring at Sammy and retreating again. “Just how allergic is Dorian?”

“I don’t actually know. He’s never gotten close enough to a dog for me to find out. He scarpers at the sight of them…I think he’s just scared that being around a dog for too long will ruin his good looks with sneezing and runny eyes.” Sammy seemed very interested in the curtain that Dorian had disappeared behind, eagerly sniffing along the bottom edge of it.

“I can’t imagine the eyeliner and allergies go together,” Cullen laughed, following him to the sofa and sitting down. He was much larger than just about anyone who had ever sat on it, so that was strange. It looked strange, having someone who was over six foot on that sofa.

“No, I can’t imagine they do. Ah well, I’m sure he’ll survive having a dog around for an hour or two.” Arelos looked around the flat, silently checking that there was nothing magical out on display. “Did you, um, want to check anything in particular…?”

“I was just a bit worried that you might have stuff all over the floor,” Cullen admitted. “And I didn’t get to see her much yesterday...I’m sorry, I can go now, I just- I’m sorry for not saying outright, I’ll be as fast as I can so she doesn’t bother you.”

“You’re not bothering me. I love dogs.” Arelos stood up and got Sammy’s attention, crouching down to stroke her properly. “I’ll look after her well, I promise. You don’t need to worry.” He knew very well that saying that wouldn’t stop the worrying, but it was worth a try. “And if you do get worried, you can just drop in to see her, I don’t have anywhere to be until six.” Today was library night, so he’d be out until long after dark, long enough that he was considering staying put because of the half hour walk back home through a dodgy neighbourhood after he was done.

“I should be done with the unpacking long before six.” Cullen stood up, offering Arelos a smile that looked considerably happier than it had a few minutes ago. “Thank you. And I’m sorry if I seem…I don’t know, distrustful. I’m trying my best, but some things are hard to shake.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said. He did hate it and it was very obvious that it was there, but there was very little he could do about it, especially if Cullen was trying. He appreciated that he was trying. That was the beginning to everything. “You’re doing miles better now than my previous neighbours managed after six months.”

“Well, that’s something. I really should get to unpacking now…again, thank you. I’d offer you some money for looking after her if I had any to spare.” Cullen headed for the door, taking one last look back at Sammy before leaving. 

As soon as the door was closed, Arelos looked down at Sammy. She was a greyhound, probably, though he didn’t know as much about dogs as he wanted to. She had very, very long legs and a long nose and he’d already felt just how smooth and soft she was. “Hello there,” he said quietly. She started whining and he immediately felt really bad. He bent down to stroke her again, and she looked past him to the door that Cullen had left from. “He’s coming back soon,” Arelos murmured. “You’re safe here. Honestly.” He went to stroke her again, and slowly, the whining stopped. 

He didn’t know how long he spent just sitting there, one hand sifting through stuff on his phone (all stuff he needed to get his laptop out to answer, but that was in his bedroom and that would involve leaving Sammy) with the other running through her fur. She wasn’t quite as fluffy as most of the dogs he knew, but it was still nice to just stroke her. He wished he had a dog, but Dorian wouldn’t be able to stay if he did and Dorian paid half the rent of the time he stayed.

Maybe halfway through the afternoon, Sammy rested her head on his leg. A small achievement, but one that still made Arelos smile. He was almost disappointed when Cullen eventually came back, looking a little more worn out than before- presumably from moving stuff around his flat. “How was she?” He asked, grinning as he caught her enthusiastically wiggling body in his arms when she ran up to him.

“She missed you,” he said. There was definitely a lot of love between the pair. It was nice to see, and from the way Cullen had spoken to her, he imagined that she helped him a lot with whatever was bothering him which meant he needed to be at the therapist place (plot twist, it probably wasn’t the same thing that was bothering him). He’d get himself a dog to help with when he was sad, but money and Dorian prevented it. Perhaps now, though, he would have a dog that he could talk to a little more often, if Cullen would allow it.

“She’s very friendly. How did she behave whilst I was gone? I should hope she didn’t cause you any trouble…” Cullen looked anxiously around the flat, as if he expected to see broken glass or spilt food and drink somewhere.

“She sat over here for a bit,” he said. “She sniffed around the curtain a lot but she didn’t go inside. She did make an attempt at climbing up onto the sofa, but she’s very well behaved and she got off when I told her to. I wouldn’t have a problem, it’s just where Dorian sleeps,” he explained with a laugh.

“I’m glad. Thank you so much for looking after her…” Cullen looked relieved that nothing bad had happened to either Sammy or the flat, which was understandable. “I won’t need you to look after her often, if you’re worried. I’m not too much of a social butterfly, if you hadn’t guessed…”

“There’s no shame in that,” he said. He’d had his struggles himself, a couple of months ago, and when he was quite a few years younger, but he managed to get over it in part. “I’m out quite a lot, but you’re welcome to say hello if you’re getting a bit stir crazy with only your dog.” Of course, if Cullen wasn’t feeling too good about seeing people, he’d probably rather go to others. “Do you want me to point you in the direction of friendly people in the flats?”

“That might be helpful. I could use some friends. I’ve been lonely before, and I don’t want to- never mind. Ah, some names of people I can say hello to would be lovely, thank you. You’re very kind, helping me like this. I really do appreciate it.” 

“It’s fine, I’d do the same for any other new neighbour who was just as pleasant.” That was a lie, because he wouldn’t do the same for a Templar who was just trying to be polite. It seemed like Cullen had some anti-mage roots, at least of some kind, but he wasn’t a Templar. He wasn’t like them. “One floor down all the stuff is labelled with a three. Thirty four has a really nice family, and they have dogs too.”

“I’ll remember that. Thank you.” Cullen checked his watch, turning away towards the door. “I should probably get going. Sammy needs feeding, and honestly, so do I…it’s been a long day.” He sighed. “I can’t thank you enough for your help, Arelos.”

“No problem,” he said, reaching out to pat Sammy one last time. “I’ll see you again at some point, I imagine, but bye for now. Be good for Cullen, Sammy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are really appreciated :) I've never written a modern au for anything like Dragon Age before (does Zelda count?? There aren't nearly as many facts in that) and I'd love it if you have pointers or feedback at all.


	4. Mistakes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen sees something Arelos didn't want him to see.

“Come on, Da’nehn, don’t worry about it.” Arelos rested both his hands on the little boy’s shoulders. “No one is going to do anything to you, it’s just a tiny bit of magic and I know you won’t hurt me.” This was a crime. It was an utter crime that this boy was so afraid of himself, and he was only nine years old. He would take up transferring him to another school, or at least another class, with his parents later.

His little after school club only consisted of three members today- elven children whose parents had asked him to help them with their magic. And that was forbidden on school grounds, so he had taken them to the park. No one there minded if a few kids shot some sparks or made the odd flower grow. The park was mostly empty at this time, after all the other children had walked home, and it was a few hours before any dog walkers would show up for an evening walk. Then again, what they were doing was perfectly legal in this park, unless they were asked to stop and they didn’t. He didn’t want to mention the laws of it to the little children, but it gave him a little satisfaction.

The young boy who he had spoken to raised one shaking hand, casting a weak flame that sputtered and died out after only a couple of seconds. Hardly impressive, but Arelos still smiled like the boy had just conjured the sun. “That’s good,” he said, sounding as enthusiastic as he could. “Keep practising, and in no time at all you’ll be able to do things like this…” He took his hands away from the boy’s shoulders, casting a multicoloured jet of flame that arced between his hands. A little party trick that Dorian had introduced him to, but kids always loved it. “And one day you’ll be in a place where no one will shout at you for it.”

The boy grinned brightly, reaching his hand up again and shooting a few small sparks. That got the other kids doing it too, all of them practising shooting fire or sparks, all of them smiling and laughing. This was why he loved doing this, even though he had to watch the grass very carefully.

After a couple of minutes, the sudden sound of a dog barking caught his attention. Arelos looked up, his eyes going wide when he saw Cullen at the entrance to the park, Sammy on a leash and barking in the direction of their little display of sparks. Oh, this was not going to end well. He looked back at the kids, and then looked over at Cullen again. Surely he’d see what was going on, surely he’d go away...he hoped he wouldn’t ask him to stop. He didn’t want to stop teaching these kids about who they could be when they didn’t have teachers trained in barracks.

Cullen didn’t ask them to stop, though. He stood exactly where he was, and Arelos knew even at this distance that he was panicking. He glanced down at the children around him, debating what to do. “I- I’ve got to talk to someone,” he said after a moment’s thought. “If you set anything on fire, shout for me.” With that, he ran off towards Cullen.

“Cullen,” he said as he got closer. He didn’t want to shout, he was sure that would shock him and he didn’t want that. But he also didn’t want to get too close, because he really didn’t want to watch Cullen back away in fear. “Cullen, are you alright? They’re just kids and they’re staying over there.” He could move away, but he wouldn’t be able to do any more teaching today if he did that and he knew Cullen would want him to leave if he suggested it.  
“I’m- I’ll be fine.” Quite clearly he was not fine, because he still hadn’t moved, even though the three children had stopped casting magic and were now just watching the two adults converse. “I- I didn’t know it was legal to practise magic like that…”

“It’s legal here because this park is owned by the elven part of the council in Denerim,” he said, trying not to snap. A lot of people didn’t know and Cullen had just moved here. He shouldn’t be angry. “And they allow magic in public places as long as there’s no reason for suspicion, so I bring some of the kids out here after school. Templars can’t teach them how to control magic, only fear it.”

“Oh. That’s- that’s fair enough. Maker, I’m sorry, I should let you get back to the children.” Cullen took a step back, looking genuinely quite scared of Arelos. That hurt. He was used to fear, but he’d hoped that Cullen was getting past it when it came to him. Apparently seeing him around people using magic was just too much. For the sake of the Creators, they were just children.

“Thank you,” he said, trying to summon a smile when really he wanted to cry. He’d ruined everything. “It means a lot to me that people can accept this.” The words sounded so hollow, but he’d tried. It didn’t mean a lot to him that he was regarded the ability to exist as himself in public. It was something he expected as a minimum from decent people. But he wouldn’t say that to Cullen, not when he looked so upset.

“I’ll just be going now,” Cullen said quietly. “Come on, Sammy.” He tugged at her leash, hurrying out of the park before Arelos could say another word. Fantastic. He allowed himself one frustrated growl and then forced himself to smile for the children, heading back over and waving away their concern with promises to show them more magic tricks. 

-

“I can’t believe how badly I fucked up,” he moaned to Dorian that evening. He’d left two days ago and he’d finally managed to make it across all the borders with all his stuff. Mostly Ferelden herbs and alcohol and a few things made by one of the nearby Dalish clans to sell to interested parties. He hadn’t managed to get the image of the Divine across the border, but he said he’d try again next time. “He looked so upset.”

“I’m sure he doesn’t hate you. You say he just walked off? No insults, no threats on your life? You’ll be fine, Arelos. Just relax…” This was the third time that Dorian had said something similar to this, and it still wasn’t helping.

“How am I supposed to relax? He’s my neighbour and he might hate me. What if he calls the Templars on me, Dorian?” He was more worried about what Cullen thought of him, really, but he was worried about the Templars too. If they were called here, they’d probably find things, and Cullen had no reason not to call them because he was pretty sure that he had nothing criminal to hide.

“He won’t do that. He likes you.The worst thing he’s going to do to you is be a little bit scared for a week, and then everything will do back to normal. He’s shy, but he’s sweet. He won’t stay mad. Your little lover’s tiff will be resolved in no time at all, mark my words…” 

“It’s not a lover’s tiff!” He protested. Cullen was human, not a mage, and scared of magic. Also he was a bit racist. He couldn’t be with someone like him, even if he had a really cute dog. “He’s really not my type.”

“Oh? What is your type, then? Because it clearly isn’t devilishly attractive mages either, or you wouldn’t be making me sleep on the sofa every time I visited and we wouldn’t be using this phone to have such an innocent conversation right now.” 

“We’re friends, Dorian,” he said with a short laugh. “And no, you’re not my type.” Dorian was a lot too loud and out there and he wouldn’t be able to kiss someone with such a silly moustache.

“You still haven’t answered my question, then. What is your type? Are you an elves-only person? Or are you hiding some secret attraction to…I don’t know, Qunari? I hear they’re interesting in bed.” Frankly, Arelos didn’t want to know where or why Dorian had heard that.

“Qunari are too tall,” he said flatly, ignoring the part about how their damned outdated religion in their stupid, Creators-forsaken country still justified literal slavery and stripping mages of their sense of person. He hated everyone who followed the Qun with no exceptions.

“Fair enough. How about dwarves, then?” Dorian chuckled into the phone, and Arelos could practically imagine the smirk on his face that he always got when he was teasing. “I can’t say I’ve ever dated a dwarf. You would have to report back to me.” 

“Dwarves can’t be mages,” he said, “so they’re probably out of the question.” He was okay with dating a dwarf, really, because a lot of them were pretty cheerful and friendly about magic stuff. They didn’t like to take sides generally, unless they were looking to make money, in which case they chose non mages.

“You need to learn to be a lot less picky,” Dorian began, but Arelos wasn’t paying attention to anything after that because he’d just heard a knock at the door. Maker, what if Cullen really had called Templars on him? No, he told himself. Templars knocked a lot more loudly than that.

“Sorry to cut you short, Dorian, but there’s someone at the door. Coming!” He called, hanging up on Dorian after listening to a few moments of protesting noises and going over to the window. There, he stopped, because it was Cullen. He didn’t look too great, but it did seem that he’d brought Sammy with him.

Arelos set his phone down, hesitating for a good few moments before going over to the door and opening it. This had better not end in him getting punched in the face. “Hello,” he said, fighting to keep his tone as neutral as possible.

“Hi, I, um,” Cullen attempted a smile, but it didn’t work. Arelos really hoped that he wasn’t pretending to be nice before he hurt him or something. He was slightly terrified. “I-I’m sorry about earlier?”

Well. An apology was better than verbal or physical abuse. “Thank you,” he said carefully. “I, um, wasn’t expecting you to actually come over here again after what happened earlier. So, thank you, really. I appreciate it.” This time, he meant it.

"I, um, do you want to come into my flat for a bit?" Cullen shifted from his left foot to his right, and Arelos looked up in surprise. He actually hadn't seen inside the flat since Cullen had everything in there and he felt like maybe there were things Cullen didn't want people seeing. He was the same, he just had magic to hide those things.

"Are you sure? I don't want to impose. Don't feel like you have to invite me in." He shifted where he stood in the doorway, and Sammy stepped forward and nudged her nose against his thigh. Well, if the dog wanted him to come, it must already be decided.

"I made a bit too much food for one person," Cullen admitted, bending down a little to stroke Sammy. "I know he smells of magic, Sammy, I already know," he said with a laugh.

"I'm not sure magic has a smell," Arelos said doubtfully. "But...alright. I'll come." It had been a while since he'd had a meal that wasn't cheap carbs and some tomato-related sauce. "What food did you make?"

"She attempted a career as a sniffer dog," he said with a smile, "but she couldn't smell anything that wasn't a constant source, like an actual person or maybe a bottle of lyrium." Arelos' heart had leapt into his throat for a moment, but he was okay now. "Nothing special, just a stew."

"If the stew contains actual meat, I'll eat it all," he said, semi-seriously. "I'm not exactly rolling in money. It's cheaper just to live off the bare essentials." Arelos stepped out of his flat, but not before slipping his phone into his pocket. Just in case.

"Beef, if that's okay," he said with a smile. "Do you eat beef?" And that was the vegetarian stereotype again, that was original. "It's beef, potato, and a few vegetables."

"I already said I would eat it, I'm not a vegetarian." He couldn't keep the irritation out of his voice, and Cullen picked up on it immediately and looked rather sheepish. At least he had some humility, this one. Most humans didn't even have that small level of decency.

"To be fair to me," he said with a grin, "when I was growing up it was in a very small town and the only elves were Dalish." He crossed the hall to his flat, and when he turned his back Arelos waved his hand to lock the door with magic. "I can feel it, you don't have to hide it."

That was something odd. Most humans couldn't just feel magic. The only ones that could were those with special training, usually Templars, and Cullen was about as far removed from your average Templar as it was possible to be. "I was just locking my door," he said, shifting a little. This was a bit scary. "I'm allowed because of the crime rate."

"I don't mind," he said with a smile. Arelos stepped into the flat behind him and the smell hit him. He hadn't eaten anything so wonderful in weeks.

His stomach growled loudly, and immediately he folded his arms over it in embarrassment, hoping to stop any more noises. Maybe Cullen hadn't heard. Although...he was clearly making a very pointed effort to be nice, so maybe he wouldn't mind. "That smells really good," he said with a smile. "I never eat anything like that."

"How much have you eaten today?" He asked. He sounded slightly concerned, and Arelos wanted to be annoyed about it but he wasn't. Better that people knew just how bad it was.

"Not a lot." He shrugged. "I have eaten, though, which makes today better than some days. And I'm getting a good meal now, I presume."

"If I have anything to say about it," Cullen said. He was smiling and he sounded happy and it was so different to earlier. "This is much better than- I, when I lived in the Free Marches." Arelos knew the problem there had been back there recently. Cullen had been there? No wonder he was going to a therapist.

"I'm not surprised it's better than the Free Marches." His phone buzzed his pocket then, and he pulled it out to check on it. Dorian, wondering why he hadn't called back. ‘Don’t worry, Cullen just invited me in for dinner,’ he told him. There wasn’t much that was worse than the Free Marches recently. But it would have been worse for someone like him.

“You can sit down if you like,” Cullen said, indicating a folding chair with a cushion on it that was pulled up to a coffee table. “It’s not fancy, but I’d rather keep the sofa clean.”

“Thank you. It’s fancier than my flat, I don’t have a cushion on my chairs.” Arelos laughed a little, going to sit down where Cullen had indicated. A few moments later, his phone buzzed. And buzzed again, and again. He really ought to have known that Dorian would overreact to the prospect of him having dinner with Cullen. ‘Shut up, I’m putting my phone on silent so I can enjoy a candlelit stew with bonus dog nose by my balls.’

“I’m sorry if you had something going on,” Cullen said. Arelos could see him moving around a couple of pots in the kitchen, but he hadn’t cooked anything that complicated in years so he couldn’t really work out what was going on.

“I didn’t. I was on the phone to Dorian, but we’re in contact so much that I’m sure he can stomach an hour or two without me. He seems to be under the impression that this is a date.” Perhaps that was information he shouldn’t have shared, Arelos realised, but it was a little too late to take it back now.

“A-a date?” Cullen dropped a wooden spoon. “It isn’t, I’m not- I don’t- sorry. I’ll start again. I don’t...I’m not looking for anything and I-I think you know how I feel about magic at the moment and...Maker, I’m not even interested in men like that. Maybe I should have lead with that one?” He let out a nervous laugh.

“I didn’t think this was a date,” Arelos said hastily. “That was just Dorian. You’ve-you’ve seen Dorian, you know how he is. He’s exaggerating. He was just teasing me.” Part of him, a small part that he was determined to keep squashed, was a little disappointed that Cullen wasn’t into guys. He didn’t like Cullen like that and he doubted he would ever be able to, but it was nice to have some common ground and it would be nice to have the option if he ever managed to get over that fear.

“That’s-that’s good,” Cullen said, bending down to rescue the spoon before Sammy bolted over to lick up the remainder of what was probably beef juices. “Oh, fine, you silly dog.”

Arelos watched with a smile as Cullen ruffled the short fur on her head, letting her lick the spoon before he tossed it over to the sink. Sammy ran over to him then, and he bent down to greet the dog. Clearly she had gotten over the smell of magic again. He went to stroke her, and she quickly butted her head against his hand, making the soft dog noises that made him miss having animals in his flat. Maybe he should get a cat or something, Dorian could stand those. “I’m going to have to eat in a minute, Sammy,” he said with a smile. “I can’t stroke you and use cutlery at the same time.” She rested her head on his leg as if in protest, giving him a pair of very literal puppy-dog eyes. He really was powerless to resist the allure of a cute animal. It wouldn’t be too bad to spend another few minutes stroking her, surely. He could eat one-handed. 

Cullen laughed at him as he brought two plates full of stew to the table. “Don’t let her,” he said, but Arelos could tell that he wasn’t being serious. “She asks for attention all the time and she gets it all the time. It’s very sweet but it can get a tiny bit annoying when I want to go somewhere and she won’t let me move.”

“Sorry, Sammy, big bad Cullen says I have to stop stroking you now.” He gently pushed her head off of his leg, leaning forwards instead to focus on the food that had been placed in front of him. Oh, that looked good. He really needed to start setting aside a little more money for food in the future. He’d forgotten just how heavenly it was to eat something that wasn’t just staple food. He only just managed to stop himself from moaning as he tasted the meat. He hadn’t eaten anything so good in a very, very long time, but it was because he felt bad for using money on food that people who were starving needed.

Within five minutes, the whole plate was gone. Cullen was only about halfway through his own plate, and he had stopped eating to look at Arelos in amusement. “There’s more in the saucepan in the kitchen. Go and help yourself if you’re still hungry.” 

He didn’t want to impose and take more than he was welcome to, but he was still very hungry. “I won’t take too much,” he promised, and he took another half a serving. He could probably eat about three plates of this, it was so good, but that would really be overstaying his welcome. He should suggest stew to the people at the food bank, it was a good way to make something big.

The next half serving was gone quickly too, and Arelos had to resist the temptation to go back for more. Instead, he sat and waited for Cullen to finish off his own food, passing the time by petting Sammy again. She really was an affectionate dog. “She’s lovely,” he told Cullen, who immediately grinned. “Why is she called Sammy?”

“An old friend,” Cullen said. “My roommate when I first moved away from home was called Samson. We fell out of touch a couple of years ago, but I know I’ll always remember him. He was a good friend, and this Sammy is too.”

“How long have you had her? She seems to really love you.” It was true, from everything Arelos had seen about the way Cullen interacted with his dog. They cared for each other, which was always sweet to see. 

“Just a...couple months, since I moved here,” he said. “I needed a fresh start after everything that happened in Kirkwall.” Kirkwall. Shit. Arelos did his best not to react too much to that one, because Cullen was probably really sick of it. Kirkwall during the Free Marches Revolution would not be a good place and it certainly justified Cullen’s fear of magic. Shit.

“I- oh.” He really couldn’t think of any better way to react to that. He gently nudged Sammy over towards Cullen- she seemed to get the message, trotting over and nuzzling comfortingly against him. Dogs really were the best creatures on this earth, Arelos thought to himself. 

“I know,” he said with a short sigh. “It’s sort of hard to believe when I see the news on all of it. I checked, after I came back. The news isn’t very accurate, I’ll be honest with you. It’s weighted in favour of the Templar forces; it was a huge mistake for them to ally with Tevinter.”

“We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” Arelos said hastily. He figured this was the reason that Cullen was in therapy- personally, he would rather hurl himself out of the window than discuss why he himself went to therapy sessions. That was not an experience that he needed to share with someone who barely even qualified as a friend. 

“I don’t,” he admitted. “But I thought you would at least appreciate knowing that the vilification of people like you is inaccurate.” It was nice to hear, actually, but that didn’t mean he wanted to put Cullen through reliving any of that. He had his own opinions on what had happened and he was happy to keep them to himself for Cullen’s benefit.

“I know it’s inaccurate.” Arelos looked down at his empty plate, then stood up to go and put it down by the sink. “Should I leave soon? I don’t want to impose on your flat for any longer than I’m welcome here, and I can understand if you want me to go. Don’t worry about asking.”

“I did want to apologise for earlier again,” Cullen said, not looking up from where his eyes were fixed on the top of Sammy’s head. He was trying to pull a piece of leaf from her fur, but his fingers were shaking and he couldn’t manage it. Arelos left him to it. “I didn’t mean to have an adverse reaction and I hope I didn’t offend you or the children.”

“I’m not going to lie, it’s not the best feeling to know that you’ve just accidentally terrified someone by expressing a part of yourself. But the kids didn’t know what happened, they’re all fine. And I’ve seen worse reactions to my magic, so I’m not going to hold anything against you.” Arelos leaned against the back of the sofa, eyeing Cullen’s shaky hands. “Are you alright?”

“I’ll be fine,” Cullen said. His voice sounded weak and shaky, and his eyes were closed now. “I’m glad you came and I hope you enjoyed the food.”

Arelos bit his lip, shifting from one foot to the other. He didn’t know what to do. Cullen was clearly not okay and he was not going to be fine for quite a while, most likely. They both knew this, but the problem was that he just didn’t know what to do about it. "I'll leave you in peace," he said eventually. He had a feeling that the presence of a mage in the flat was not going to help. Cullen would be best left to deal with this by himself. "Thank you for having me over. The food was great."

Cullen didn't reply, so Arelos went back to his flat feeling absolutely terrible. He should have immediately dodged the topic of Kirkwall. Kirkwall, of all places. He had thought that everyone in Kirkwall was evacuated as soon as the war started unless they were a Templar or had connections to mages. Cullen definitely wasn't a mage, which left the option that he had once been a Templar. He rest didn't seem the type, but now that Arelos thought about it, it did sort of make sense. The magic detection, the fact that he had been in Kirkwall...

He couldn't think about it. He really, really couldn't think about it. It would be bad for him to think about Templars too much, what they were doing in Kirkwall, what they did to him. He couldn't think about it. If Cullen had been a Templar, he would probably never be able to speak to him again.


	5. Helping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arelos discovers that one of the children he helps with magic is struggling at home at the moment.

Early mornings had stopped bothering Arelos a long time ago. It was worth having to get out of bed at six in the morning if it meant that he could be on time to volunteer at the food bank for a few hours. In the alienage, people needed places like this. Every day, there were people with no food who came for a package to feed a family of five because the government only give them enough for five days a week, and every day there were people who couldn’t cook for themselves who came for a warm breakfast.

He was used to dealing with kids here- they often came for meals when their parents had work, or came to pick up food parcels. But Arelos knew well enough when something wasn’t right, and a sad, worried looking boy hovering in the doorway was definitely something to be concerned about.

“Good morning, Da’nehn, how is everything today?” He called, beckoning the boy into the room. He knew the feeling of being too afraid to ask for help when it was needed, but all he needed was a little push. “Do you need some food?”

The boy nodded, stepping further in slowly and then running up as if he was afraid that someone would stop him. He’d been crying; Arelos could see that clearly now, the red around his eyes and the still-wet marks on his face. Something was very wrong. “Mamae is ill and she had to go away to-to hospital and we don’t have any food,” he said. He was clearly trying his hardest not to cry again. Arelos glanced towards where the others were giving people food. The queue was moving and everything seemed okay, so he went round to see if he could talk to the boy and find out what was going on.

“It’s alright. Who’s in the house right now? It’s you and your older sister, yes?” She was sixteen- able to take care of herself decently well, but probably not herself and a nine year old boy. “How long has she been in hospital for?”

“Just since last night,” he said. “But Ferelis already went to school because she has to get on the very early bus and she said come here.” Arelos wanted to frown, but he understood the stress and how his sister probably just wanted to get away and keep her mind off what was going on.

“Alright.” Arelos weighed up his options. He knew Da’nehn’s family well enough, especially the boy himself. “I think I can help, do you need to get to school soon?” The boy nodded, looking hopefully up at the counter where the pan of hot food was. “I think I can help you and your sister until your Mamae is better again, so can you come after school and meet me in the main square?” Another nod, and another hopeful gaze up at breakfast. Porridge, Arelos thought it was today. He hadn’t had a chance to look yet. “You’re hungry? Alright. Eat quickly, though. You don’t want to be late for school, do you?”

The boy shrugged, and then shook his head. “I don’t wanna go,” he said with a frown, watching eagerly as Arelos went back behind the counter to get the food. “But I don’t want the Tempoops to shout at me for being late.”

“The whats?” Arelos laughed, sliding a bowl of porridge over to Da’nehn. “You’d better watch that they don’t hear you saying things like that. Believe me, you don’t want to get in trouble with the Templars.”

“The Tempoops,” Da’nehn corrected insistently, taking the bowl and going to sit at a table. He looked a lot more cheerful now he had some food. “Thank you, Mr Arelos!”

-

After doing his rounds of the alienage for the day and checking up with the people living near Da’nehn, he found that their mother had been ill for a week and a half but last night she had collapsed and they hadn’t been able to get her up. Arelos could barely imagine how terrifying that was. He was glad that he had found out so soon- kids living on their own in a place like this never did very well. He could only pray that their mother recovered soon and things could get back to normal for them. In the meantime, though, he would do everything that he could do in order to help.

He waited in the centre of the alienage in the hope that Da’nehn would be okay and would come back on time from school today. Often, he helped him in after school sessions, helping him be more comfortable with his magic after the Templars scared him into fearing it. He remembered being that fearful of himself and he remembered the hate he held for himself as he got over. He didn’t want someone as sweet as Da’nehn to go through something like that.

At about half past three, he arrived, looking rather morose and trailing his coat on the ground behind him. Poor kid. Arelos smiled at him as warmly as he could, getting a weak half-smile in return. Clearly he’d had a rough day. The last thing he needed on top of his mother being in hospital. “Afternoon, Da’nehn,” he said, waving his hand to the boy, who waved back. “When does your sister get home from school, usually?”

“Nearly five,” he said, coming to sit on the wall next to him. Arelos took his coat and tucked it over his shoulders. It was looking a bit worn out, but they were getting towards March now so he’d probably be okay until the end of the summer. “Her bus takes aaaages.”

“Okay, where does her bus stop? The station in town, or the stop just outside the alienage?” Da’nehn thought about it for a moment, then pointed off in the direction of the alienage. The less safe, less clean bus stop, then. Not a great place to wait for an hour and a half. “Do you have a key?”

“We have two keys, Mamae had one and Ferelis has one because sometimes she comes home early,” he said. Arelos was pretty sure he knew the school because he went there when he was her age. It was practically in the middle of nowhere and it was the only school for miles and miles that took mage students and wasn’t Chantry-run. “Normally I have Mamae’s key.”

“But you don’t have her key now?” He sighed. “Alright, then. We can go and wait for her at the bus stop. You’ll be fine, I’ll look after you.” He smiled, reaching down to take the boy’s hand. “Come on.”

“What’s going to happen if she doesn’t get better?” He asked. His voice was so quiet and so scared; Arelos couldn’t believe that something like this had happened and no one had been sent to help them already. She’d been ill for over a week, she’d been taken to hospital last night, but no sign of social services everywhere. It was shameful, especially when both of the kids were under pretty heavy monitoring because of their magic.

“She’ll get better,” Arelos said firmly. “People get ill a lot, alright? It’s rarely ever that serious. She’ll be out of there in no time.” He really hoped that he was right. He didn’t want to have to handle a grieving kid. It would be hard enough looking after him for a week or two as well as keeping up with business- longer periods of time would make things worse. A longer period of time would involve finding these kids a permanent home, and all the places for orphaned or abandoned kids to live in the alienage were full and had been for many years.

“She’ll get better,” Da’nehn repeated, trying to smile. “I hope so. I like porridge but I don’t want to eat it every day.”

“I’m sure you won’t have to.” Barely a few minutes later, they’d arrived at the bus stop outside the alienage, and Arelos settled himself down to wait. Da’nehn would likely sit still for a while and then start running around madly, as small boys were prone to doing. 

The pair of them sat for an hour, Da’nehn occasionally getting up to stretch his legs and move around before he sat down again, kicking the wall as he waited. Arelos couldn’t help but think about all of the things he could be doing with this time, but he knew this was just as important. These were two kids who would be without their mother for over a week and he couldn’t just ignore that.

Eventually the bus pulled up, and a few elven kids got out, including a girl who bore a striking resemblance to Da’nehn. That had to be Ferelis, then. She looked just about as tired and sad as her younger brother did- possibly even more so. Arelos imagined that she’d already been looking after him for the best part of a week. “Ferelis!” Da’nehn called, jumping off the wall and running straight to her arms. “Mamae had my key and I couldn’t get home.”

“It’s okay,” Ferelis said, wrapping her arms around him tightly. “It’s okay, don’t worry. We can go home now and it’s going to be okay.” She looked up, seemingly seeing him for the first time. “Who’s this man, Da’nehn?”

“He knows Mamae and he works at the food bank. Sometimes he takes me after school and shows me how to do magic.” That explanation seemed to ring a bell in Ferelis’ head, because she looked up at him, studied him for a moment, and then smiled.

“Arelos, isn’t it? Thanks for everything you do to help my brother. He’s- his magic has gotten so much better recently.”   
“That’s in him, and has little to do with me,” he said truthfully. He could teach children how to use magic all he liked, but really it was up to them whether they improved or not. He couldn’t give them an ultimatum of ‘control your magic or be restricted forever’ like the Templars. All he could do was help.

“Well, he’s improved a lot since you’ve been helping him. And I presume you took him back here after school? Thank you for that, too. It’s not safe for him to walk back here alone.” She sighed. “We should be getting back home now…thank you for everything.” 

“I, ah, you might not be open to this, and I’d understand if you’re not, but I-I understand that it’s difficult for you at the moment, Ferelis, and I wanted to ask if I could help.” She would probably tell him no, and he’d understand why if she did. “If you don’t want to be apart from Da’nehn at the moment I definitely understand, but if you would like me to help I can look after him for a few days.”

“You’d do that? Oh, thank you. That sounds awful, I know, but I’ve got so much work for school and he’s- well, he’s a kid. He runs around a lot. If you’d look after him, I’d be so, so grateful. Thank you.” Well. That was a much better reaction than expected. He’d expected her to refuse, but the stress she was under had to be huge.

“I’ll come with you now to help him get ready, if that’s okay with you, Da’nehn?” He hadn’t wanted to ask the boy and receive a yes in response and then a no from his sister, but now it was a matter of where Da’nehn wanted to be at the moment. “I live a tiny bit further from the magic school for his level than you do, but I can probably walk him there in the mornings.” He’d take a later slot on the food bank in return, because it definitely wasn’t safe for him to wander around streets he didn’t know when there were very few elves around.

“Okay. Again, thank you so much.” Ferelis turned to smile at him again, and already it looked as if a little of the stress had faded away. Good. Arelos liked being able to help. This community really needed all the help it could get, especially with someone so young. He just hoped their mother would be okay and their lives could go back to normal soon.


End file.
